


We’ll All Arrive in Heaven Alive

by invisibledrugs



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Not Really Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:42:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26438134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisibledrugs/pseuds/invisibledrugs
Summary: The Winchesters are finally dying, and for good.But that's okay, because Dean knows what - and who - is waiting for him.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Implied Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	We’ll All Arrive in Heaven Alive

**Author's Note:**

> I saw that stuff going around with the boys in the pilot clothes on the last day of filming and the lack of Misha meaning no Cas, etc, etc, and this has not left me alone since. And lbr, if the show is really going back to the beginning for the end, this is the only way. Ha.
> 
> Not beta'd, first draft, etc etc, forgive me, I just needed to shut my brain up.
> 
> Title taken from the beautiful "Heavenfaced" by The National

Dark closes in at the edges of Dean’s consciousness. He can’t move. He doesn’t really want to. He’s dying.

He’s dying, and it doesn’t feel like it has before.

He’s dying, and it’s finally fine.

He doesn’t really know what state he’s in. He feels his blood, warm and thick, at his fingers, resting down near his hip. He doesn’t know where it’s coming from, but that’s okay. He’s dying.

Feet away, Sam is dying, too. Maybe for the very same reasons. But he’s not struggling either.

With monumental effort, with all that’s left of him, Dean reaches across the small void between them - it feels like lightyears. His fingertips brush Sam’s shirt, push closer, then settle at his shoulder. His vision swims and that darkness closes in. He doesn’t feel cold, he doesn’t feel scared.

He is finally dying. 

Sam slowly turns his head, and his eyes begin to roll. It looks like a smile is trying to twitch onto his lips, but it dies quickly. Just like he will. There’s no strength left to say anything. But they both know. They understand.

_See you on the other side._

They are finally dying.

Between them, where their blood pools together, runs through each other, Jack kneels. A comforting hand rests on both of their chests. He looks sad, but he does not cry. The Winchesters are finally dying. 

Dean doesn’t bother to try hanging on. He knows what’s waiting for him. He knows what’s waiting for _them_. 

“Rest,” Jack encourages, looking between them in a motion neither brother catches. “I will see you there.”

Dean’s eyes flutter and then close, for good. He is comfortable. He is happy. He is finally dying.

His final thought is one name, one name ringing loud and clear across the expanse, across the darkness. He follows it. He is at peace.

He is finally, blessedly, dead.

When Dean opens his eyes again, it’s with one name on his mind, on his tongue.

Everything is white. The light, the walls, the floor beneath his feet. Sam stands beside him. Jack, smiling, stands before them. He looks different here; more assured, more at ease. 

But Dean notices the absence immediately. 

“Where’s Cas?”

Jack’s smile fades. He looks sorrowful. “I’m sorry, Dean. There are simply some things I cannot do.”

“You’re God!” Dean fires back angrily. “Hell, you’re _more powerful_ than God, aren’t you?”

Jack frowns. “I’m sorry, Dean. I cannot bring back Castiel. I've tried many times.”

“Clearly not hard enough!”

Jack flinches.

“Dean,” Sam sighs. “We both know that if Jack could have brought back Cas, he would.”

Dean refuses to believe it. He had been waiting for this. He had been waiting for this moment since The Empty had stolen Cas from him, had taken away his last and only chance at true happiness. This was going to be his chance to get Cas back. To say everything he never said. To set things right, once and for all. To finally have his happiness. To finally have their happiness. He had died to try and finally live.

And Cas is gone, for good.

Dean is too angry to cry. Too disappointed. Too guilty. Too lost. Too numb. He had died for this and Cas is still gone.

Sam reaches out a hand to his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“There is one alternative,” Jack offers.

Dean has a worrying idea that Jack means finding Jimmy Novak. They had done enough to ruin his life. “Not Jim-”

“Not Jimmy,” Jack assures him. He gestures to his left, to a door Dean hadn’t noticed. It’s stark white like everything else, with a small placard. His name and the years of his life are printed on it; Sam’s is beneath his.

“This is our heaven?” Dean asks, looking back to Jack. 

“Something like that,” Jack says. 

Dean and Sam exchange a look, both curious and wary. 

“Please,” Jack encourages. He looks so pleased.

As Sam steps up behind him, Dean opens the door.

Inside is outside. It’s nearly pitch black, but Dean would recognize that barely-lit bridge anywhere. Baby idles just in front of it, her engine rumbling. It sounds like anticipation to Dean.

“Jericho,” Sam says. 

“I cannot bring Castiel back. But I can offer you a chance to find him again.”

Dean’s head whips to Jack so fast he sees the boy - the god - the whatever in the hell he is - in double for a moment. “You mean-”

“It all started in Jericho,” Jack smiles. 

“And Cas?”

“You will meet him again at the barn in Illinois. He will not remember you.”

“But I’ll-”

“Yes.”

“So I can-”

“Yes.” Jack raises his chin and smiles at Sam. “And yes.”

Sam flashes a smile this time. He gives Jack a nod of thanks.

Then together, he and Dean peer through the door. Baby’s interior light is on, glowing warmly, like she’s beckoning them home. 

Dean looks at Sam. Sam looks back at him, face set with determination. There is no other way.

Dean steps through first. Sam follows right behind. There is nothing but the night around them, the bridge at their backs. Jack is gone. Baby’s engine calls to them and they follow.

The familiar squeak of car doors pierces the quiet. Dean and Sam settle in. 

Glancing at Sam, in his stupid tan jacket and purple shirt, Dean smiles. Maybe they're right back where they started, but they know where they’re going. 

Dean knows what’s waiting.

He knows what he died for.

He knows what he’s living for.

“Let’s go get Cas.”


End file.
